A Little West of Nowhere: a Welcome to Nightvale Fanfic
by wordkid
Summary: People arrive in strange ways in strange towns, only for things to become stranger, only for strangers to become friends, and for science to become abstract. Carlos, a scientist- the scientist, comes to Night Vale through a solid oak door, and is left to grapple with the world he is thrown into- a world of no comfort, and a world of no certainty.


It's always the oak doors. It's always the tall, long slabs of oak wood, decorated in their old ridges- the remnants of their lives as trees- flattened into discolored lines running up the body of the door like veins. The door was bejeweled with a single gold door knob. It was covered and dirt- I was really wishing I hadn't performed that experiment on the amount of fecal matter on door knobs the day earlier, but, it's all in the pursuit of knowledge- and the once golden body of the doorknob was caked with rust and decay.

That night, it was far too dark to see, and if I _could have_ seen then, I'm not sure I'd be able to remember it now. Everything before the oak door showed up is blurry, I'd like to attribute it to something, something science-y, like retrograde amnesia, something manageable. But it felt like more than that, I felt like the memories of what came before the oak door, before Night Vale, are all being blocked out. I can't help but feel like it's a lot bigger than me. But- I can't prove it or anything, not how I'd like to anyway. It's always been curiosity that gets me. I stood up from- something soft I think?- I remember feeling the world get a lot less comfortable, a lot colder on my skin, and it stayed that way. I took my hand, and through the dark, placed my hand on the only thing I could see, and though no light shone upon the door, there was still something that wanted me to see it, and so I did. And I stepped through the oak door.

The city was far too kind when it first greeted me that night. The sky was painted a soft lilac by the pale rays of the moon, and above, the light of the helicopters beamed through the sparse clouds, drawn thin like cotton candy. The sky was so beautiful, the golden sands, almost sparkling with the soft orange lights from the dry, bony streetlamps. There was something so endearing about the way the brush of tumbleweeds would float across the desert horizon- a passing distraction before a town that lay soundly asleep. I walked through that soft desert night, into the softly lit desert town. It was a quaint town- well, _that's_ for sure- it was a town of concrete buildings, sitting low on the desert floor kneeling before a building that stood tall above them. The tallest building in the town was no larger than the largest sand dune in the city though, which, by my measurements, is about 30.48 meters tall, but the building is exactly forty-eight centimeters taller than the tallest sand dune.

The town was kind, but kindness can't be mistaken for warmth. The world around me felt detached from the world- even the desert only a few feet outside of the town felt like it was an entirely different world. From the sky, small birds, with crooked beaks that splayed off into different directions, perched themselves upon the street lamps. Small insects scuttled through the small pockets of sand pressed up on the curbs of the sidewalks. I could not shake the feeling of eyes on me- I still can't, but it doesn't feel pervasive anymore- the eyes seemed to follow me, and I couldn't rest because of it. I was alone in the town, and the brisk breezes became colder and colder as the night passed. I walked by a small pizza place, a small red bricked building with a large neon sign that read, "BIG RICO'S PIZZA." The sign felt larger than the building, like it encompassed the entire sky when you looked up at it. I walked up to its thin windows, plastered with an image of a pizza covered in what looked to be human pancreas', and saw only darkness on the inside. The scent of dough wafted through the clean desert air, and, in my new-founded hunger, I tried to open the door to sneak in. Maybe then I would have somewhere to sleep for the night and something to eat in the morning. But, the metal handle on the glass door didn't budge, and in my frustration, I tried to push harder and harder, only kicking up small bits of sand on the sidewalk. I groaned and ran my hands through my dark hair.

I could feel languor creeping up my arms and legs. I could feel hunger grow in my stomach. I could feel rocks on my eyelids. I lurched over to the building across from Big Rico's Pizza and laid my tired body on its white walls. They embraced me, and the cold desert night lulled me to sleep. A sleep swiftly interrupted.

"What are you doing out here?" A young black woman with heavy bags under her eyes and a lab coat snapped.

I started awake as she kneeled down next to me. She looked moved close to me, the curvature of her face was almost hawkish, she had a sharp, thin nose and dark skin with a soft and short, curly mass of black hair on her head.

"No one sleeps outside," she said, moving towards me. "Come, come inside."

"Who are you?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"Rachelle." She snipped. "You are?"

"Carlos."

"Last?"

"Last what?"

"Last name. Don't be stupid. You have to have a last name."

"I don't know." I muttered.

"What good is that? Don't even know your own last name." She grumbled.

I didn't think of apologizing for it. There was no reason to- she probably would've snapped at me again anyway. At that point, I could already tell what kind of person she was. She was the kind of person who cared about science more than people- maybe it wasn't science, maybe she cared for things of substance more than she cared for people, who were often unsubstantial, and often failed to give results.

"Look. Here's the lab." She said, gesturing to the doors of the building with soft white walls.

"The walls are comfortable." I murmured, half-knowingly.

"The walls are?- Goodness, you really are tired." She walked to the heavy steel door of the building and swung it open.

"Come inside." She commanded.

I followed her into the building. The building was almost entirely lab space- if this place was a lab. Beakers with small purple skinned creatures shook when their small spider-like legs scuttled up the glass and their bodies combusted into small blue flames. The walls of the room were painted a deep red, but long sheets of plastic hung across the walls. Droplets of blue, red, purple, green, orange, and yellow- maybe? it didn't look like any yellow I had seen before, it was far brighter and more vibrant, its vibrancy stung almost- dotted the plastic. There was something inviting about the lab, it was something I had certainly known before. I could tell, my heart raced when I was in there, it was like I had seen it hundreds, no, thousands of times before, and every single time, I always enjoyed it. It was bliss, it was euphoria, but really, it was just endorphins firing off in my body from a positive memory. But, endorphins don't lie. They can't! They're just chemicals! My lips curled up into a smile. Rachelle quickly reciprocated with a frown.

"Listen. You need somewhere to sleep. There's a room in the back. You sleep there. That's it."

"I think I might be a scientist." I said- foolishly.

I _might_ be a scientist? Really, I just walked straight into her cruel retort. I was obviously a scientist, I've always been a scientist! Science was the only constant!

"You _might_ be a scientist?" She snapped.

"Yeah, sorry," I rubbed my eyes, "I should just- go to sleep."

"That's a great idea. The room is in the back. Steel door, go quick, the SSP might not like it if you're still out here making noise after their sleeping hours."

I walked through the lab, and at the end of the large room with the chrome tables. The plastic tapered away off the wall and a steel door with three metal door knobs sat on each side, the hinges on the top, bottom, and side of the door.

I stood before it and turned to Rachelle.

"How do I-"

"Turn a doorknob."

"Which one?"

"Any knob, pick a knob. You knob." She chided.

I sighed and turned the door knob. The room was small. The walls were far too close together, like, patty cake close together, like first date and you're not sure you like the boy yet but he still wants his hand on your waist, close together. A bundle of blankets were pushed into a corner, and I presumed that was my bed. I closed the heavy steel door behind me, and picked up the blankets. To my surprise, a very, very, very small kitten scuttled out of the blankets. It's hair was a soft brown, speckled with gray dots. It's eyes were odd though, reptilian, in fact. And its teeth, well- I don't think I should, or even can say anything about its teeth. It was strange, but I couldn't be repulsed by it, that would've made it sad. I scooped it up in my right hand, the blankets still clutched tightly in my left. I spread out the blankets, then set the kitten down on the soft fleece, and I laid beside it. It would bear its- teeth?- and bounce over to me, its soft paws landing on my face. I expected it to jump off, but it certainly did not. It simply stayed there on my forehead, and fell asleep soundly, with soft languid purrs coming from its hairy body. There was some comfort in the strangeness, because it wasn't entirely strange. It was familiar in a way, like somewhere I had been before, but stayed away from for a long time- the scents of the room felt old, the soft hair felt old, and the world felt even older. My eyes, they began to feel old too, and slowly, so did my body. I fell asleep in the small room.

I awoke with the kitten on the other side of the blankets, nibbling at my uncovered toes. I hadn't thought about it much, but I wore only an old pair of pajamas, no shoes, nothing. I bounced up into a sitting position and scooped up the kitten once again.

"I should name you," I cooed. "You'll be-" I paused for a moment, "Martin!" I exclaimed.

Something slammed against the steel door. Martin jumped out of my palm.

"Carlos, are you still in there?" I recognized the cold voice of Rachelle. But, she wasn't being as cold as she usually was, she was at least emulating warmth for a change.

"Yes," I responded.

"Come out. You said you're a scientist right?"

"Yes." I mumbled, placing my hand on the door, opening it.

Rachelle stood on the side of the door, a sharp smell of sulphur stung my nose.

"We need your help." She demanded.

"Wait, aren't you guys scientists? Isn't this a lab? Why do you need my help?"

"Yeah," she muttered ashamedly, "But we accidentally set something on fire and the fire won't go out."

"Okay." I grumbled. I quickly perked up, "wait. The fire won't go out?"

"Yeah, we used our extinguisher and everything."

"Shit, wait, get me a lab coat, and some shoes? Do you guys have that?"

"Yes." Rachelle hustled over to a plastic covered wall, ripped away the plastic, revealing another steel door. She swung open the door almost effortlessly, her small frame moving the giant door like it was nothing. Rachelle was like a bullet, she was small, slender, and when fired accurately, killed, and when fired inaccurately, caused problems. She's still one of the best scientists I have on my team now. I'm grateful for her, but lord, can she set a fire.

She quickly ran back with a white lab coat on her arm, a pair of denim jeans, a red and black plaid shirt, and a sleek pair of white Adidas Superstars.

I slipped back into the small room and stripped down to only my old pair of bright red boxer shorts. I put on the jeans, and they fit just a bit too tightly on my thighs. I put on the lab coat, and the sleeves fell down past my fingers, forcing me to roll up the sleeves for the sake of lab safety. The only article of clothing that fit me properly was the plaid shirt- it was tight across my broad chest, but not too tight, and the inside of the sleeves was soft, unlike the grating insides that the shirts had sometimes. I always hated that- that and tags, goodness! I hate tags. I laced up my Adidas Superstars and hopped out of the room. Rachelle stood beside the fire, a concerned and partially disconsolate look plastered on her face.

I rushed over to the lab table. A younger man sat on a lab table across from the burning beaker. He had soft white hair, curled up into tufts that fell across his wide forehead. He sat, smiling grimly as if he had pulled a prank, or, perhaps, set a beaker on fire using some kind of fake fire.

"So, what did you set on fire," I said, examining the burning beaker.

"I was working with one of the scuttle bugs and it caught on fire. It won't go out- usually they just kinda taper away, but this one has been burning for two hours." Rachelle stammered, her voice losing its edge.

"I think we should just throw it on the ground." The man suggested.

"We could try that Dave, if it didn't break our beakers every time you panicked and dropped a burning beaker on the ground."

The two of them spoke, but I was already rummaging through the cabinets below their lab table, searching for a classic, gritty, flame retardant blanket. Then, behind a box of old bones- which I promptly shook my head at, since there was no practical use for only femurs in a laboratory like this one- I found a small flame retardant blanket. I grabbed it, the sharp specks almost stabbing my hands, and threw it over the flaming beaker. The fire resisted the blanket, and before I could observe the exact results of my first move, a young woman burst through the lab doors.

"Am I late?" She shouted, trying to run her arm into her lab coat.

She had dark black hair, a round, plump face and figure, and olive skin.

"Yes." Rachelle sniped.

"It doesn't actually matter Barb, we aren't getting paid."

I watched as the fire flickered up through the fire retardant blanket, burning it- the soft fabric curling into bright green embers.

"Are you serious?" I muttered.

"Who is he?" Barb asked, looking to me as leaned over the lab table I stood at.

"You know," Dave added, "I was about to ask the same thing." He said it as if he meant it honestly, but there was still a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

I figured that he wouldn't let up on the sarcasm, and as a preemptive measure, I decided to let the slightly annoyed eye-rolling start early.

"Why is this burning through the blanket?" I grumbled. "It's flame retardant, this is not supposed to work like this. This isn't supposed to work like this at all." I looked to Dave, Barb, and Rachelle, who all stood around me with concerned looks on their faces.

"Is this supposed to work like this?"

Dave shrugged vaguely. Barb smiled slightly. And Rachelle, Rachelle only laughed. Her thick lips curled up into a smile.

"Everyone, this is Carlos. He's an outsider, and new scientist here."

"New scientist?" Barb retorted. "We cannot afford someone else on the payroll, the university won't pay for it."

"What?" I asked, looking up from the green fire and the billow of black smoke growing above it.

"No one has showed you around town yet." Rachelle declared. "I'll show you around."

"Don't do that," Barb interrupted. "That's a terribly bad idea, no one knows he's here yet, that'd be rude for him to walk around in other people's property." Barb paused. "And besides, we have work to do."

Barb stood from the table and pointed over to the door Rachelle opened, maybe it was a closet, maybe it was a whole other room, I wasn't sure.

"We still have those seismology tests to do, and the-" A knock shook the door, then the entire laboratory.

A heavy screech swept through the laboratory, it shook the ground, and I quickly took cover under a steel table. The sound was heavy, and powerful, it caused the insides of my ears to bleed a bit, and the hearing in my left ear was entirely gone for at least a week after that screech. Suddenly, it stopped, and Barb crouched down under the table and looked at me.

"You're in charge now, Carlos." She said, a dazed look in her eye.

"What?"

"University says you're in charge, the letter said you're in and you gotta start leading us. I won't throw you into the role, 'cause you still don't know how things work, but you do have the role. Objectively, it's yours. But with a closer look, I'm still basically in charge until you figure things out. We need you to be a figurehead for the operation okay?" I quickly recognized Barb's heavy, Canadian accent in her voice.

I never really understood wonder until Barb, Dave, Rachelle, and I started working. What I had known before was rigid, it was somewhere with schedules and regimens and strict rules on how things worked, how the world worked. It wasn't the same here. There were earthquakes that scaled on seismometers but were never felt by the citizens, or me. There was a house in Desert Creek that didn't _really_ exist- according to Barb and Rachelle. They said they were going to investigate it more later, but they only took photos for now. Then, there was the sunset, which was ten minutes late every evening. And despite its tardiness, the sun still colored the desert sky soft orange hues while Barb's "Science Jeep" bounced through the dirt. Despite its tardiness, the sun still colored the sky a soft lilac when we returned to the lab and I found a small portable, battery powered radio in the cabinet of a lab table. The sun said goodbye, but the world was not cold. I don't think it could have ever been cold again after I heard a soft, velvet voice sweep through the small steel room I slept in. The world couldn't have been cold with Cecil Gershwin Palmer speaking to me about the town he called his home. His velvet voice was warmth, it was peace. It was steady, and it was certain. I laid there with Martin pawing at my ear, and a smile across my face. And all of a sudden, this quaint desert town began to feel like home.


End file.
